10. Time Police Writing Competition
Entry by Paris Anthony
Regulation 847.6
Officers shall not store, transport, or conceal fruit-based beverages[1] within any item of Time Police uniform, nor combine or substitute such beverages with non-consumable liquids, including (but not limited to) military-grade propulsion fuels[2]. This prohibition applies irrespective of intent, context, or perceived refreshment value.
See also: Regulation 847.7 ‘On the inadvisability of explaining time travel using live ordnance’.
Rosneath (1942): On the Interaction Between Breakfast Beverages and Naval Ordnance
Officer Reporting: Weaver (The sensible one)
Officer in Charge: Murphy (Not)
Report:
Myself and Officer Murphy were mobilised to identify a potential time slip in Rosneath, Scotland, 1942. Given Major West’s view that this was a ‘small anomaly’, and that Officer Dunn was still in MedCen, we were cleared for a two-man operation. Unfortunately, we were called up halfway through breakfast, which, in hindsight, may have been influential.
We jumped without issue. The first complication arose immediately: what is now the gloriously brutal Rosneath Dockland shopping centre was, in 1942, simply docks. Scans indicated the anomaly was underwater, and at the dock edge we identified a partially surfaced submarine, later confirmed as the USS Barb. With only the conning tower above water, the vessel allowed direct access from the dock. Under cover of darkness, and absent most of the crew (reportedly retired to the USS Beaver, which Officer Murphy maintains is a real vessel, though I remain unconvinced), we boarded. Notably, Officer Murphy objects to the term ‘ship’, insisting on ‘boat’ or ‘submarine’. This is acknowledged and ignored.
We cleared the forward compartments without incident. Upon reaching the aft section and just clearing the motor room, all hell broke loose. Sirens sounded, lights flashed, and it became apparent that a drill had been initiated. With a single point of access and the imminent return of crew, extraction was unfeasible. We therefore swore and hid in the nearest compartment, later identified as the after torpedo room (not, as Officer Murphy has stressed, ‘the rear end’).
Space in the compartment was extremely limited. We wedged ourselves behind several large cylindrical objects, (or ‘big metal tube things’) before realising, with some alarm, they were torpedoes. Concealment was achieved briefly, in that we were not immediately waving at anyone; however a four-man crew entered, sealed the hatch, and turned to find two unexpected visitors attempting to become part of the furniture.
Weapons were drawn on both sides, though this was complicated by the understanding that any discharge of weapons near live torpedoes would likely render Western Scotland significantly more uninhabitable than it already was. A mutual decision was made to avoid inconveniencing the local population further. The situation settled into an uneasy stalemate; the crew informed us a flooding drill was underway and would take some time. At this point I made the mistake of reflecting on our interrupted breakfast.
In what can only be described as a well-intentioned but catastrophically executed attempt at diplomacy, Officer Murphy produced two bottles of what he claimed to be orange juice from his pockets and offered to share. This was not well received. The crew believed we had ‘borrowed’ their torpedo juice. A brief exchange followed regarding ownership of beverages. We reassured them that our bottles originated from our canteen rather than their stores. This improved relations, and the crew proposed we simply mix and share the drinks. Under mild tension, and with what can only be described as heroic optimism driven by a desire to avoid an international incident, the contents were combined without regard for provenance.
Only after consumption was the nature of ‘torpedo juice’ explained. Earlier, during ‘routine maintenance’, the crew had decanted small quantities of torpedo fuel into available containers. This fuel, consisting of approximately 180-proof ethanol used in the torpedo motors, had, with a level of understatement that deserves recognition, been universally referred to as ‘torpedo juice’. The resemblance between these containers and Officer Murphy’s orange juice bottles was, in hindsight, unfortunate.
The result was a hybrid liquid (part citrus beverage, part propulsion fuel) still referred to, with evident pride, as ‘torpedo juice’. At this stage, the situation had progressed beyond what could reasonably be described as breakfast-related. What had begun as refreshment became an unintentional introduction to fruit-based high-proof naval propulsion fluid.
The effects on Officer Murphy were immediate and impressive. Within minutes he progressed from concern regarding the taste to enthusiastic international cooperation, accompanied by declining balance. He repeatedly offered to improve the crew’s weapons systems and, at one point, attempted to explain time travel using a torpedo as a visual aid, which was declined with commendable restraint. His condition deteriorated into determined helpfulness, including an offer to ‘hold the boat steady’, despite the vessel being docked. I instructed him to keep his hands in his pockets and stop interacting with anything, which he interpreted as a cue to provide commentary.
Following the drill, we attempted extraction. This was less a matter of stealth than careful management. Officer Murphy developed a keen interest in ‘having a quick go’ on various equipment, which required firm discouragement. Progress was slow, assisted by most crew being otherwise engaged, and Officer Murphy’s conviction that he was being extremely subtle.
It was at this point that we encountered the submarine Commanding Officer seeking clarification as to why two unidentified individuals had been discovered in his torpedo room sharing beverages and, according to one report, ‘explaining the future using one of the warheads’. The situation was not improved by Officer Murphy greeting him as a ‘fellow senior officer’ and offering what remained of the torpedo juice. This was declined.
A brief exchange followed, during which I attempted to provide an explanation consistent with non-interference protocols. This proved challenging, as the Captain assumed we were either enemy agents, or, in his words, ‘the worst trained inspectors in naval history’. Matters escalated further when Officer Murphy assured him that ‘this sort of thing doesn’t usually happen unless the timeline’s gone a bit wobbly’, which did not achieve a calming effect.
The Captain then made it clear that, should any further ‘agents’ be discovered aboard one of his vessels, he would consider it an act of hostility and would ‘personally ensure that the United States is at war with whoever you belong to, and possibly several other parties as a precaution’.
Time Police guidance on interactions with United States military personnel is extensive and unambiguous, particularly regarding actions that could be construed as acts of war. As such, the presence of two unauthorised agents (one visibly under the influence of torpedo juice and attempting torpedo-related demonstrations) may reasonably be considered suboptimal. I therefore commenced immediate extraction. We exited under cover of darkness, aside from a brief delay while Officer Murphy saluted a dockside bollard.
Upon return to the pod, Officer Murphy was propped against the wall-secured in the co-pilot position, where his contribution to the return jump consisted of enthusiastic encouragement and a projectile redistribution of the ingested torpedo juice across the control interface. The Senior Mech later expressed his views through prolonged silence and a disapproving expression.
It is understood that this incident formed the basis for the introduction of Time Police Regulation 847.6, the necessity of which is, in retrospect, difficult to dispute.
[1]For the avoidance of doubt, describing a fruit-based beverage as ‘perfectly safe’ does not exempt it from this Regulation.
[2]Clarification issued following repeated internal queries as to whether dilution with citrus constitutes ‘rendering safe’. It does not.
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